


Meow Mix

by astrangerenters



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Cats, Crack, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zell and Selphie serve as Laguna's bodyguards at an unusual event - the 34th Annual Timber Cat Show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meow Mix

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colonelborkmundus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonelborkmundus/gifts).



> Hello lindorie!! Some Zell and Selphie gen/crack/ridiculousness for you. And it's hard to include Selphie without bringing Laguna along for the ride! Hope you'll enjoy!!

He was just at the front of the cafeteria line when the announcement came over the speaker.

"Zell Dincht, please report to Commander Leonhart's office. Zell Dincht to Commander Leonhart's office."

The lady behind the counter gave him a sad smile as he cracked his knuckles in frustration. "Maybe next time, Zell," she said before looking behind him to the kid after him in line.

"Sixteen hot dogs, please. No mustard," the kid said in a squeaky voice as Zell left the queue in a huff. Sixteen hot dogs. They were getting smarter, ordering for their friends now. Back in his day...

He shuddered, leaving the scents of relish and ketchup behind him. He wasn't old enough to start thinking in a "back in the day" mindset yet, was he? Either way, there'd be none left by the time he left Squall's office. Even if the guy kept meetings short on account of not wanting to actually have to talk to anyone, hot dogs remained a prized commodity in the Balamb Garden cafeteria.

He bypassed other kids zipping through the hallways, wondering what he'd done wrong this time. As soon as he got off the elevator, he spotted Selphie waiting in the office already. She gave him a cheerful wave as Squall organized some file folders on his desk.

"It's lunch time," he reminded Squall. "SeeDs need to eat too, you know."

Squall didn't even look up at him. "One of these days you'll turn into a hot dog. And then where would we be?"

Selphie poked Zell's arm in greeting as he sat down in the chair next to hers. "There's a joke about buns in here somewhere, but I can't manage to find it."

Finally Squall met their eyes. He looked particularly annoyed this afternoon. Zell considered himself a decent judge of Squall's irritation level, seeing as how he was sometimes the cause of it. Never intentionally, of course. Squall was more prickly than a Cactuar. There was his usual face of annoyance, the "I'm looking like this so you won't bug me" face. His current appearance was a few steps beyond that, all the way to "Why is this my life?" stage. 

"Are you allergic to cats?" Squall asked them both.

"Cats?" Selphie asked.

"Four legs, fur, tail. Cats," Squall said as if the two of them were three years old. It always pissed Zell off when he took that tone of voice with them, but since Squall's face was already at "Why is this my life?" he decided not to complain. 

"I don't think I am," Zell answered. "I mean, our neighbors had one that used to screech all the time, and Ma would always threaten to throw a bucket of water on it so..."

"Thank you," Squall interrupted, then turned to Selphie. "What about you?"

Selphie smiled. "Love them! No allergies."

"Fantastic," Squall said, sliding folders across the desk to each of them. "We need a VIP escort at the 34th Annual Timber Cat Show. Your train leaves at 1500 hours so you can canvass the convention center in advance."

Zell's eardrums nearly burst at the joyous shriek Selphie let out beside him when they opened up their folders. 

Squall continued, ignoring Selphie's happy little breakdown. "President Loire of Esthar will be in attendance at the cat show as an honorary judge. The two of you will be responsible for his safety."

Squall said "President Loire" in the same tone of voice Zell usually used when it was time to visit the dentist. It certainly explained why Squall looked so pissed off and why he was assigning someone else to do the job. 

Unlike Squall, Zell liked Laguna Loire. He was a good guy, a nice guy. SeeD pulled security assignments like these all the time, and none of the VIPs were as nice as the President of Esthar. For one, Laguna tended to treat his security detail like human beings and not nameless paid thugs. And he always treated them to a meal when the job was done, on Esthar's tab no less. Sure Laguna had his faults, but he wasn't a jerk and that made all the difference. So as far as Zell was concerned, he was lucky to pull Laguna babysitting duty.

And speaking of lucky, Selphie was practically vibrating in her seat, fingerprinting up the glossy photograph of Laguna within the envelope. Standard SeeD procedure of course, including a photo of the client in question, but Zell could see that Squall was regretting this little bit of protocol.

"Oh Hyne, I promise...no, I more than promise," Selphie was babbling. "I swear I will keep Sir Laguna safe at all times. I mean, if a kitten so much as hisses at him I'll take it out!"

Squall shook his head. "You will not be subduing any kittens, Selphie, even if they appear to have anti-Esthar terrorist agendas. Keep an eye on the humans in the room instead."

"Why a cat show though? Doesn't he have...presidential stuff to be doing?" Zell asked, flipping through the rest of the folder. Squall had included detailed maps of the Timber streets surrounding the convention center, all possible exit routes, the works. But really, how much trouble could a cat show be? 

"He says yes to everything," Squall replied, and Zell could see a vein bulging on his forehead in irritation. "Last summer there was the Deling City Antiquing Extravaganza, this winter the Trabia Cross Country Skiers Association banquet. Don't get me started on the Friends of the Ochu Society fun run."

"Well, I think it's wonderful that Sir Laguna goes out and supports so many causes," Selphie said. "He's such a man of the world!"

Zell stifled a chuckle at the face Squall made in response. Selphie was always a consummate professional in the field, and everyone knew it. But it didn't make her crush on Laguna any less creepy, especially to Laguna's son.

"In any event, the cat show runs from 0900 to 1700 hours tomorrow. He'll be arriving by train this evening, you will escort him to the convention center, accompany him during the judging and then escort him back to the train where an Esthar team will meet you. He is not to leave the convention center. He is not to do anything but stare at cats all day. He is not to ask you invasive personal questions about me, and if he does anyway you will not answer him. Are there any questions?"

Selphie's hand shot up.

"No, you cannot bring a cat back to Garden with you. No animal adoptions," Squall said.

Selphie's hand stayed raised.

"Not even if it's cute," Squall finished.

The hand lowered in disappointment.

"Dismissed."

\---

The train had finally emerged from the underwater tunnel and already Selphie was in the corridor of the SeeD car, looking out at the lush green fields. It was another hour or so to the Timber Main Station, but Zell had had enough of reading the folder with their mission objectives.

Squall had gotten a little excessive with his included "Rules for Keeping President Loire from Killing Himself and/or Harming Others" list. Zell doubted that Laguna would try and wear a kitty on his head like a hat or accidentally lock himself into a kitty crate, but Squall had planned for every possible contingency. Because he was Squall and he liked plans and if having plans made him the complete opposite of his father, then he would make even more plans. Zell liked Squall, but he doubted he'd ever fully get him.

Zell had never been to a cat show before. Quite frankly, he didn't understand the concept. Cats were cats, weren't they? They meowed, drank milk out of dishes, and gave you the evil eye. Of course, his knowledge of cats was limited to the neighbor's cat his Ma hated. Zell had always been more of a dog person anyway. At least dogs did stuff. They ran and caught frisbees and licked your face and loved you. So what was there to be judged at a cat show? Best furball?

Selphie was humming when he slid the compartment door shut, joining her at the window. She was the best partner to have on missions, at least if Zell was forced to choose among his friends. He'd been on missions with Squall before, and the guy wouldn't talk. That made eight-hour stakeout shifts especially awkward. Quistis would talk but it would always be about the job. She didn't know how to relax. And once he'd been out with Irvine, observing a crime syndicate in a bad part of Deling City. The guy had totally ditched him to talk to girls hanging around outside an obvious brothel.

Selphie would talk, Selphie understood the way Zell worked. They were committed to the job, but they weren't robots or anything. With Selphie at his back, he just felt more comfortable.

"So Miss Tilmitt," he said teasingly, glancing out at the endless stretches of grass. At one time it had been nothing but trees. "What do you know about cat shows?"

"It's a show, Mr. Dincht," she replied in an equally silly tone of voice. "A show about cats."

"Excellent. Glad we're on the same page here." At least he didn't feel like a complete idiot now. 

"Now I like Sir Laguna just as much as everyone else," she said with a sigh. Understatement of the millennium, Zell thought. "But why would he need a SeeD detail for this? Diplomatic summits, sure, but a cat show? Is the Esthar guard afraid of getting scratched or something?"

\---

"Cat owners are insane," Kiros insisted as Zell helped Ward get Laguna's bags into the rental car. "Seriously insane. I know it's our fearless leader who's usually prone to hyperbole, but in this instance I am not lying to you. We did the research, and some of these folks will totally snap if their precious little Boots or Mittens isn't chosen the winner. We need the best security on this."

Zell nodded, seeing the President of Esthar poking around in the car's glove compartment like a curious child. Ward slammed the trunk lid down decisively, and Kiros smirked.

"And he really wanted to see Squall. Family bonding over cuddly creatures was probably the idea there," Kiros explained. "But I see that Squall has delegated father/son time to you."

He shrugged. "Selphie and I will keep a close eye on him, don't worry."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Kiros replied as Laguna started pressing buttons gleefully to adjust the car's side mirrors. 

Ward and Kiros had other "Esthar business" to attend to in the city while Laguna attended the cat show, which probably meant meeting with local leaders and discussing potential trade options. The sort of thing that Laguna probably should have been doing himself instead of getting up close and personal with whiskers.

Zell waved goodbye to the two men as they headed off to catch a local train, leaving Zell alone with his charge. Most diplomatic visitors insisted on limousines and motorcades, but Laguna preferred rental cars. It was easier to stop along the way for cheeseburgers if there was only one vehicle going through the drive-thru lane. And it was the first thing Laguna wanted to do as Zell turned the car on and started out of the train station lot.

Much of the Timber city center between the station and the convention center was pedestrian-only, so it took a while to actually find a restaurant that met the President's needs. But once Laguna had a greasy Double Delicious burger and a plumberry shake from Chocobo Charlie's Chicken and Burger Emporium in either hand, he was ready to go.

"Ugh, you cannot get food like this in Esthar," President Loire said, and Zell tried to keep his eyes focused on the road as a dollop of mayo dripped onto the rental car upholstery. That would probably come out of Zell's pay and not Esthar's budget. "Everyone there is so...so health-conscious."

"Well, we've got you staying at the convention center hotel," Zell explained as some projectile lettuce from Laguna's mouth hit the car's dashboard. "Selphie and I did a full sweep of the room, and right now she's doing final security checks with the convention center team for tomorrow's show. I don't anticipate any problems."

"Good, good," Laguna said, mouth full of burger deliciousness. Zell's stomach rumbled in response. He hadn't gotten his hot dog lunch, and there'd only been time for snacks on the train that afternoon.

"So Laguna," he continued. The man always insisted on being called anything but President Loire most of the time. "Do you like cats?"

There was silence in the vehicle for a few moments, followed by a noisy slurp of plumberry shake.

"Laguna?" They stopped at a red light, and Zell turned to see Laguna nervously munching on his dinner. "You...you do like cats, right? I mean, you'll be judging a cat show."

Laguna hit the radio dial with his greasy fingers, turning up the volume. "I love this song!"

It was a commercial jingle for The Galbadia Hotel. _Comfort and convenience...the capital waaaaay_.

Zell turned it back down, increasingly nervous. There'd been nothing about Laguna's personal feelings for felines in Squall's mission guidelines. "You're not allergic are you?"

"No," Laguna said, taking another bite.

"You just...don't like them or something?"

The president balled up his wrapper and chucked it into the bag. "It's not a matter of like or dislike, Zell. When I was seven years old, the most formative years, mind you, there was a cat in the neighborhood. And my parents were pretty adamant about no pets in the house so I thought befriending this neighborhood cat would be the next best thing. I put out a dish for it, left some milk, and one day it comes up to me with these sweet green eyes, and I thought to myself 'Laguna, animals and you go together like Fastitocalons and sand dunes' but you'll never guess what happened next..."

"It bit you?"

Laguna shook his head.

"Hissed at you?"

Another shake of his head. They were almost to the hotel, and Zell was seconds away from a full-blown panic attack.

"Why don't you just tell me?" Zell said.

He thought he heard Laguna sniffle a bit. "It...it...the cat sprayed. And I mean _sprayed_. Right in my face." Zell recoiled, Laguna shuddered. "I've never gotten that close to a cat ever since."

"Okay," Zell continued, pulling into the hotel's parking lot as he envisioned a miniature Laguna screaming and flailing his limbs as the evil cat sauntered away. "Question for you then. _Why are you here_?"

"Because they invited me and my schedule was open," Laguna said as Zell threw the car in park. "Duh!"

"Duh?" Zell mumbled. Yeah, this really boded well for tomorrow's eight hours of cat judging.

\---

When they got up to the room, Laguna with his milkshake, Zell with Laguna's four duffel bags (for an overnight trip), his card key didn't work in the door. "Damn it," he grumbled, shoving the magnetic card into the lock again and again. "It's 822, this is the right door. I'm sorry, Laguna."

"What's that?" Laguna called. He was now a few doors down, trying to see through the peephole of another room.

The door opposite 822 opened, and Selphie came out, looking triumphant. "There you are, took you long enough to get back here!"

Zell beamed, grateful that Selphie had turned up. One more minute of futility with the key card, and he would have put his fist through the door. "Did you get another room? We swept this one," Zell said. "This one's the right one, isn't it?"

Selphie was dodging his eyes, staring in turn at her boots, the ugly red paisley hotel carpet, and at Laguna's sudden exclamation of delight that there was an ice machine around the corner. "Well, you see, I didn't feel too confident about that room. This one's better. We don't have to do rock paper gunblade for the pull-out couch in this room. And I think the President will be more secure in this one. It was a judgment call."

And then she was off, greeting Laguna and gently urging him over to the room. Zell dragged in Laguna's bags, dropping them as soon as he got through the door. The two double beds and pull-out couch that had made up the other hotel room had been replaced with a single king-sized bed. "Selphie!" he screeched.

But then Laguna came racing in, shrugging out of his shoes and leaping over to plop onto the bed, hand still clutching his plumberry shake. "Yes! King-size! Perfect!"

He scoured the room, desperate to locate a sleeping bag or fold-up bed in the closet. But it was just the giant bed, the bathroom, the TV, and a small table with two uncomfortable looking chairs. Selphie shut and locked the door, moving Laguna's bags into the rest of the room beside her overnight bag. 

"You like the bed?" she asked Laguna. "Fantastic!"

"Selphie, what are you doing?" Zell asked, pulling her into the bathroom and shutting the door. He gave her a shake, wondering where Perfectly Professional Selphie Tilmitt had disappeared to. Maybe the Sir Laguna worship had finally broken her brain for good. "We can't...the three of us can't..."

She stared up at him defiantly. "A SeeD on either side. He'll be totally safe!"

"You're being creepy! Do you get that? Do you get how creepy this is? I don't want to share a bed with another guy!"

She poked him in the chest with her finger. "We always shared beds in the orphanage!"

"We were kids then!" he complained. "We're adults! And he's the president of a country!"

"Selphie!" Laguna called. "Zell! Come here, there's mints on the pillow!"

She smirked at him then. "Squall said to keep him safe. I'm keeping him safe. The file mentioned that Laguna occasionally sleepwalks."

"Which is why we were all in the same room. I think we could have kept him from walking out the door without all of us piled into one bed. How do you think Squall's going to react when he finds out his dad drooled on you in his sleep? Or drooled on me!"

"Hurry up!" Laguna shouted. "Or I'll eat all of them myself!"

"We're SeeDs, you know. We saved the world. You're smarter than this!" he complained. 

"Snooze you lose! No more mints!" Laguna cried.

"It's just for one night," Selphie protested, ducking under his arm and yanking the bathroom door open. "What's the worst that could happen?"

\---

At 2:42 AM Zell took his pillow and one of the six "blankies" Laguna had packed and locked himself into the bathroom. As he settled himself in the bathtub, pulling the curtain and trying not to vomit, he somehow understood why Squall had looked so pissed off at the prospect of escorting Laguna at the cat show.

Because now there was a phrase floating around in his head. 

A phrase that he'd never be able to forget even if he had a perma-GF thing going on with his brain.

Because seconds earlier, President Laguna Loire of Esthar had rolled over in the king-size bed, wrapping an arm around Zell's middle. 

And he'd said "My turn to be the big spoon."

"I hate everything," Zell murmured into the blankie.

\---

Dawn arrived and with it came Laguna jiggling the bathroom door handle. "Hey Zell, we're ordering room service for breakfast! Question! How do you like your Cockatrice eggs done? You strike me as a scrambled guy, am I right?" The handle jiggled again. "Zell?"

He stretched, crying out in pain as he dinged his ankle against the bathtub faucet. He clambered out of the tub, hobbling his way over to unlock the door. He opened it, seeing Laguna looking refreshed and chipper on the other side. "Overeasy," he muttered just to be defiant, dragging the blankie and pillow behind him. 

Selphie was in her pajamas, perusing the room service menu. "Convention center opens in an hour and a half, so we've got time to eat and do a final check. Wow, your hair looks awful in the morning."

He refrained from kicking the bed, collapsing into the chair at the table. Everything he'd thought about working a job with Selphie was a lie. She was extremely, terribly evil. At this point Zell would happily deal with Squall's silence or Quistis muttering SeeD regulations in her sleep.

Laguna's initial morning enthusiasm waned as they took turns showering and ate their breakfast. It was almost kitty time, and Zell was horribly frightened that Laguna was going to big spoon him all around the convention hall. He and Selphie suited up in their SeeD uniforms, and every bit of confidence the uniform usually gave him seemed to matter very little. Probably because the dark fabric would soon be a cat hair magnet.

They took the elevator down, bypassing the normal entrance to the convention center in favor of the staff entrance. Selphie took off to do one last sweep of the convention center, scanning for bombs hidden inside kitty crates, leaving Zell to chaperone the event's VIP. There was a judges' powwow meeting just before the convention opened to visitors and other cat lovers, and Laguna rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking ready to bolt in fear at any moment. 

"President Loire!" 

They turned to see a chubby man in a bulky sweater wander over, clipboard in hand. He looked like a cat himself with bright, beady eyes and a small mouth. "I'm August Meriwether from the Timber Cat Fancy Association. Thank you so much for coming! We spoke on the phone?"

Laguna bumbled his way through a greeting, telling August Meriwether how excited he was to participate and how much he loved cats. Zell kept a close eye on the other judges in the room. Nobody struck him as suspicious. Most of them wore suits or turtleneck sweaters, and if there was one word to describe them it was "snooty." They eyed Zell with a look that seemed to say "oh, it's a dog person." He didn't bother to take offense. He'd already had a miserable enough time here. He just had to get through the day.

August Meriwether ran down the expectations Laguna would be expected to complete as a guest judge, including opening each cat's cage and taking it out to inspect its coat and body and demeanor. He watched Laguna twitch. "Anacondaur bacon for breakfast," Laguna explained it away, "just really peps you up!"

Once Laguna was cleared for duty and Selphie had returned, they took to the convention floor. Zell hadn't gotten much chance to look around yesterday, and he was taken aback by the number of tables that now filled the open hall. The cats were organized by breed, and signs hung down from the high ceilings over each section. Zell had no idea there even were this many kinds of cat.

Most of the owners had their cats in large crates with a small litter pan, and already some of the judges were moving from table to table, opening the metal cage doors and pulling out some rather ugly cats, asking questions about their breeding and behavior.

"Where should we start?" Selphie asked, walking backwards so she could look Laguna in the eye. "There are these cats way on the other side and they don't have tails and they have smushy little faces! Can you judge them? Please?"

Laguna just let out a shaky little laugh, and Zell realized right then and there that Laguna hadn't bothered to tell Selphie just how frightened he was of all the four-legged creatures around the hall. Then again, Laguna had fought a dragon before. He'd been in a full-blown war before. Was a pet cat really such a problem, even if he'd had an unpleasant experience once?

They made it to the opposite end of the floor, and Laguna encouraged Selphie to open the cages and pick up the animals for him. Selphie didn't seem to think anything was amiss, so pleased was she to fulfill Laguna's wishes.

"Do you want to look closer?" Selphie asked, wiggling a gray cat with blue eyes back and forth while the owner looked about ready to murder her. "Look at his face, he's so cute!"

Laguna scribbled something down on his clipboard and backed away. "So cute. Absolutely cute. Next!"

This continued on for an hour, then another hour. Selphie's uniform had nearly changed colors, it was so covered with various shades of cat fur. Zell had been the recipient of several hisses and a few bites each time he tried to stick his finger in one of the kitty crates. One of the owners had even batted him away from her precious (and hideous-looking) hairless Dingo Desert cat with a purple feather kitty toy. So much for the SeeD uniform as a means of commanding respect.

They broke for lunch, Zell keeping watch on the crowd's comings and goings as Selphie went over her SeeD jacket and skirt obsessively with a lint roller. "I want to hug them all and take them home!" she was saying sadly. "I bet it's going to be a hard decision, picking the best cat in the show, huh?"

Laguna's attention was entirely on his jumbo corn dog. Zell knew why. With each cat they passed, Laguna had grown more and more antsy that there was spray coming his way. Zell thought most of the cats were fairly docile, hissing notwithstanding, and he doubted that any of them were plotting to do Laguna any harm.

He'd been keeping an eye on Laguna's "judging." While the forms on his clipboard encouraged him to rank the cats he saw based on certain criteria, Laguna had mostly just written meaningless things like "cute," "super cute," and "I think this one farted when Selphie took her out of the cage. Yuck!!" 

Laguna was probably the worst judge the Annual Timber Cat Show had seen in its history.

They were just about to start off with the second half of the day, another three hours of looking at cat ears and cat whiskers and cat tails before the "Kitty Talent Show" at 3:00 PM while the judges' votes for Best in Show were tallied. But they heard some anguished moans and cries outside the judges' room, and in came August Meriwether, double chins quivering as he came up to Laguna.

"President Loire, oh President Loire you will never believe it."

Zell and Selphie exchanged looks. Had a fight broken out? Had someone called in a bomb threat? 

"Masha has gone missing!" Meriwether said, looking ready to burst into tears. "Oh whatever will we do?"

"A cat?" Laguna asked. "Is Masha one of the cats?"

Meriwether nodded. "Yes, a most special breed. A beautiful animal! Native to the Vienne Mountains, known for cross-breeding with cats from the moon that fell in the Lunar Cry. So few survive into adulthood, given the genetic impossibility of it all. The fur on this animal...oh, if it's truly lost..."

"Surely Masha will turn up," Laguna said. "It's a big convention center, sure, but if we close the doors and keep her from escaping..."

"Ah, another genetic modification, President Loire. I'm so very sorry," Meriwether rambled. "Masha always had more of her mother in her, a moon creature who fell in the Cry Esthar induced. No offense to you, Mr. President, sir. But Masha, she breathes fire you see. A fine specimen and completely sweet and lovable in her crate but..."

Zell grabbed Meriwether by the shoulder. "Hold on a second, you're saying there's a few hundred civilians in that hall and there's a frightened fire-breathing kitty cat on the loose?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

He and Selphie looked at Laguna, chewing on the stick from his corn dog as the other judges headed for the exit. The hero of Esthar, defeater of dragons and the man who outwitted Sorceress Adel. Surely he would take charge. 

Laguna just shrugged. Well, at least SeeD was on the premises.

"Can we evacuate the hall safely?" Zell asked. 

Meriwether looked antsy. "I don't think we could. Masha would notice the people leaving. She can smell panic in the air."

Selphie linked her arm through Laguna's. "Don't you worry, Mr. Meriwether. We'll find Masha and get her safely home!"

"We will?" Laguna squeaked.

Zell held up his hands. "Selph, I don't think that's such a good..."

"Oh thank you! Bless you for being here, President Loire, bless you!" Meriwether said, gesturing to a kitty crate on the nearest table. "Just walk the hall, call Masha's name. She's a smart creature, she'll come when you're near. Just...don't frighten her, whatever you do."

"What kind of firepower are we talking about with this cat?" Zell asked. "If it comes to it should we...put her down?"

Meriwether let out a high-pitched shriek. "Hyne, no! Oh, you can't hurt Masha! Please don't hurt her!"

Zell sighed, walking to the table and picking up the crate. It was still his and Selphie's job to guard Laguna, and now Selphie had volunteered them all to help out. There was no choice - all three of them had to go on the search. Some cat show this was turning out to be.

\---

It was difficult not to draw attention to themselves. The cat owners and civilian visitors looked at them strangely as they walked through the convention center. Laguna carried the kitty crate, hands clutching the sides as he stumbled along, waiting for Masha to pounce. Selphie had a tiny rat toy dangling from a stick and Zell had a corn dog. Not to eat, of course. Apparently the fancy crossbred demon cat loved corn dogs.

"Here Masha!" Selphie whispered loudly, peeking under tables as other cats mewled in their cages and the other judges examined their paws and their bottoms with an alarming amount of interest. "Come on out, Masha!"

"Maybe...maybe the show will just end and then we can leave and you can bring me back to the train and Kiros and Ward will be there," Laguna was mumbling. "Oh, I bet Ward would know where to find her. He can't talk but I bet he could sniff out a fire-breathing cat at 50 yards. Hey, maybe we should go back to the judges' room, rethink this whole operation. Maybe we need a better plan..."

But Selphie marched onward, wiggling the rat toy. "Laguna, you're so brave," she said with a sigh, "Marching out into the hall, right into the face of danger!"

Selphie Tilmitt had an affliction, Zell realized. An affliction called selective hearing. For every "I'm about to wet my pants"-sounding thing Laguna said, all Selphie heard was "Let's save the day!" It had to be amazing to go through every day like that, Zell figured. Maybe if Zell suffered the same affliction he'd be better at talking to girls.

They walked the entire hall in two hours, Zell swapping his corn dog out for a fresh one four times. Finally, the hall started to clear out in favor of the Kitty Talent Show being held in a roped-off part of the convention floor. Meriwether had said that Masha was a native of the area between Trabia and Esthar. Maybe being in a stuffy room full of bodies and other cats was the opposite of her native home.

"Maybe she found some place cold?" Zell suggested. "Where could she go that's cold in the convention hall?"

"I'm not sure," Laguna said, cradling the crate in his arms. "But I just realized I left my extra special catnip-powered kitty detector in the hotel so why don't you guys keep looking and I'll go upstairs..."

"That's right!" Selphie cried, patting Laguna on the shoulder. "The convention center has a freezer!"

Zell remembered the detailed plans Squall had put in the folder for them. Selphie was absolutely right. She kept Laguna from running away, tugging on his hand as they hurried to the kitchens just off the main floor. There were corn dogs galore along with kitty treats and gourmet fish from Obel Lake that the owners had been feeding their cooped up cats all day.

The kitchens were mostly empty now on account of lunch being done, and Selphie led the way. "If they left the door open for a few seconds, it's all Masha would have needed!"

They found the freezers at the end of the kitchen, huge stainless steel doors keeping it closed. "Maybe she got trapped inside," Zell said.

Laguna didn't move. "Well...why don't you two go in and check? I'll stay here with the crate and..."

Selphie tugged the freezer door wide open, and the three of them were blasted in the face with a draft of terribly cold air, as though they were stuck in the middle of a Trabian snowfield. "Hey!" Zell complained, "not all of us are used to this stuff!"

It was slightly foggy as they walked in, the warm air from the kitchens mingling with the frigid air inside. "Selphie, maybe this is a bad idea," Zell said as they inched forward, Laguna at their heels.

There were lots of dark little corners, perfect for a cat to hide in.

"Just wave the corn dog, surely she'll come out," Selphie said.

"Guys," Laguna mumbled.

"I mean, if she breathes fire it won't be so bad in here. She might just melt some cold cuts," Selphie continued.

"Guys..."

"You know, Squall gave us one job, Tilmitt. One simple job. And now we're in a freezer with the President of Esthar looking for a dangerous animal that we aren't allowed to subdue because it's rare and stuff. I mean, come on..."

"Yaaaaaaah!" Laguna screamed behind them.

They both turned around just in time to see that Masha the fire-breathing but ultimately friendly cat had rolled onto its back right at Laguna's feet, looking a little desperate for a belly rub.

"No sudden movements," Zell said.

"I think I just..." Laguna mumbled, looking at his pants. "Oh...yeah. Yeah I did."

"It loves you!" Selphie squealed as the cat started to purr, bitty puffs of smoke coming from its mouth as it batted playfully at Laguna's shoelaces. "Awww, she's so cute! I want one!"

"I...can't...move," Laguna whispered.

"But we have to get her in the crate," Selphie said. "Just settle down, talk to it gently!"

"Hi kitty," Laguna whimpered, and it got up and started butting its head against his leg. "Oh it's going to spray it's going to spray it's going to spray..."

"Sir Laguna?" Selphie asked. "Laguna, are you okay?"

Slowly Zell could see Selphie's unbreakable faith in Esthar's president start to unravel. And much as Selphie's interference and Laguna's mere existence had caused him nothing but irritation the past day or so, he decided to take one for the team.

Zell slowly crouched down, wiggling the corn dog in his hand. Masha turned and he swore he saw fires hotter than Ifrit's buttcrack staring back at him through her eyes.

He held out the corn dog and gulped. "Here kitty, kitty."

\---

"Let me get this straight. You went to a cat show. A _cat show_ , the animal world equivalent of a chess tournament, and you lost your eyebrows."

"Squall, I can explain," an eyebrow-less Zell began, but Squall just shook his head.

"I don't want to know, but I just got a call from Laguna. He's doubling your fee for some reason and also paying for new plumbing in the Garden dorms to make up for all the trouble you went to in order to keep him safe this weekend. I should let you take care of him more often."

Zell sighed. Rental car cleaning, sleeping in the bathtub, and voluntarily allowing a corn dog-loving, fire-breathing feline/monster hybrid animal to burn his eyebrows off. "Just part of the job really."

"Well, that's good because you and Selphie have guard duty for him next week..."

"Wait...Squall, wait..."

"Are you allergic to flowers?"

"Squall...just hold on..."

He slid a folder across the desk, and Zell swore he was grinning. "The 16th annual Winhill gardening fair. Laguna requested you personally. Bring your gardening gloves."


End file.
